


Rice Krispies

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universes, Episode Related, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim meets Steve at the racetrack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rice Krispies

## Rice Krispies

by Athena

Author's website:  <http://fateordestiny.com>

I like to thank Becky transcripts.

This story is a sequel to: Fishing Trip 

* * *

Jim and Blair walk up to fence. Jim agreed to go to the racetrack only because Simon wanted to show him his new horse, Little Stogie. Simon's uncle was a trainer; when he passed away, he left Simon the horse. Lastings Park was the racetrack Steve's company helped manage. Jim wasn't speaking to Steve at the moment. Before the last few months, Jim hadn't spoken to Steve for fifteen years. Why ruin a good thing? He was only here for Simon. 

"Sport of kings, huh?" sighed Blair. 

"Yeah." Jim smelled the horse manure and hay. "Rather be home listening a baseball game. And this betting on helpless animals thing -- it's ridiculous. I don't know." 

"What? Helpless animals? What are you talking about?" Blair said, "These are superior athletes. These horses are bred for sport. They lead lives of total pampering. The best food, the best medical care, and then they get to go out and stud." 

Jim elbowed Blair. "A little jealous there, Chief?" 

"Hell, no, I'm your stud." Blair turned his head toward the three men at the fence. Two of the men smelled of cigars. "Hey, Simon." 

"Oh, guys," said Simon. "Look, I'd like you to meet a couple friends of mine. This is Jim Ellison. Blair Sandburg. This is Herman Franklin. Ben Prince." 

"How're you doing?" Herman smelled of old spice and mothballs. His clothes smelled at least twenty years old and he had a leather cap on his head. 

"Gentlemen," Ben acknowledged Jim and Blair but didn't turn to shake their hands. 

Simon explained, "Herman is Little Stogie's new trainer." 

"Great!" Blair said, "Which one is Little Stogie?" 

"The one on the backstretch," Ben said. 

"Ben here owns the track," Simon said. "He's gonna let us use the turf club for the Policeman's Benevolent Association Benefit tonight. Joel Taggert is going to be honored tonight. He would like you and Blair to come." 

Jim sighed. "Come on, you know I hate those things." 

Simon shrugged his shoulders. "Joel would appreciate it." 

Jim hated renting a tux. "I'll do it for Joel." 

Blair yelled, "Oh hey look at that! Here he comes!" 

Jim didn't find listening to horses gallop in a ring exciting. He could barely distinguish the brown horses from the brown dust. He heard strange dry crackling noise and turned his head toward stadium. The noises appeared to come from all over the grandstand. 

Blair asked, "What's the matter?" 

"I'm hearing this sound," Jim said, still hearing a popping, crackling sound. "I can't identify it. It's annoying as hell." 

"Can you describe it?" said Blair. 

Jim needed to know what was making the sound. "Well, it's a cracking sound like Rice Krispies in a bowl of milk, only softer." 

"Maybe it's it's the vibrations of the track or something, you know?" Blair was so helpful like usual. 

"C'mon, Little Stogie," yelled Simon. "C'mon. C'mon. C'mon, push. That's it. That's it!" 

Herman Franklin clicked the stopwatch and showed it to Ben Prince and Simon Banks before Herman said, "Maybe you guys can open a pony ride." 

Simon looked at his stopwatch as Jim took Blair's arm to leave. "Jim, your eyes were tracking the horses." 

"I can see some movement now," said Jim. "You're Simon because you are taller than me, smell of cigars and I can see a bit of glare that is that must be your glasses. I still need a cane and Braille." 

"I didn't mean to suggest." 

Jim looked at Simon's brown face. "What did you mean?" 

"See you tonight." Simon said. 

Jim touched the railing on the wire fence. "If you want me to see your horse, I'll have to see him with my hands." The trainer brought the horse over to Herman and Simon. Blair put Jim's hand on the horse's mane. Jim, remembering to stay at the beast's side, then ran his hand down the horse's neck and shoulder. "Simon, he's a nice looking animal." 

"Let's get him watered and feed," said Herman. 

* * *

Policeman's Benevolent Association Benefit at turf club was that night. Brown, Taggert, and Rafe standing in a group talking to Ben and Herman. Cops didn't belong in monkey suits, either did former cops; it was a completely unnatural. The cigar smoke was overpowering. He didn't need to read the flyers on the health club's (gym's) walls to know the second-hand smoke was as bad for him as standing in the middle of downtown traffic. Jim was only here for Joel Taggert. After the Brackett and the church bombings, Joel deserved whatever honor the mayor was giving him. 

"C'mon Ben," said Joel. "There's no way he could be that bad." 

The older man explained, "In this life, some do the taking, others get took." 

Detective Rafe said, "C'mon. Oh no." 

"You just got took, my friends," explained Ben. 

"Oh no, no," said Brown. 

"See ya later," Ben said before leaving the turf club. 

Blair, in wearing tuxedo, talked to a woman in a short black dress. "It's quite an adrenaline rush, isn't it? The horses coming around the clubhouse turn." 

Jim wanted to vanish into the walls. The smell of the cigars, the stable odors, that Rice Krispies sound, and the tuxedo that was itchy and restricted his movements, root canal would be more fun. He would keep a social distance around himself then he wouldn't have to actually make small talk. 

A waitress asked, "Care for an hors d'oeuvre?" 

"Uh, no thanks," Blair said, "The crowds going crazy and everything?" 

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I used to be a jockey," said the woman. Yeah right, in what lifetime? She was taller than Blair and Blair was too tall to be a jockey. 

"You used to be a jockey?" Blair would fall for any line. 

Jim walked over to Blair and wondered how long it would take for Blair to notice him. 

"Mm-hmm. Well, now I find my excitement in." She fixed Blair's tie. "In other places." 

The mayor spoke into microphone at front of room. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a moment." 

Blair took Jim's hand. 

"There's a man here." The mayor cleared his throat. "I'd like to thank personally for the great service he's done for this city. It will come as no surprise to most of you that he will be honored as Officer of the Year at our upcoming civic recognition banquet." 

Jim whispered to Blair. "The things I do for my friends. I could be home listening to a baseball game!" 

Simon whispered, "Shhh!" 

The mayor continued, "It therefore gives me great pleasure to announce this year's honoree will be Detective James Ellison." 

Jim gave Blair a confused, surprised look as everyone applauded. Joel should have gotten it. He didn't want any pity honor. 

"That's great," Blair said. 

Blair and Simon gave each other a high five. 

Jim walked to the front of the room and over to the mayor. "I didn't trip. A lot of good people deserve this honor more than I. Thank you, Mayor, but I won't be attending your banquet. You can give your award to my former superior, Captain Banks. He'll see that I get it." Jim shook the mayor's hand. "Thanks, again." 

Jim walked back over to Blair who was chuckling and Simon. 

"Sorry about the deception, Jim," said Simon. "I just wanted it to be a surprise." 

Jim heard something on the upstairs balcony. Someone was struggling. He also heard grunting and shoe scuffing. Jim moved to the window and followed the sound, hoping to find the stairs or an elevator. Simon and Blair followed him. 

"What?" Simon asked, "What is it?" 

Jim heard muffled screams. "There's something going on upstairs. I need a stairs or an elevator." The turf club was candlelit and he didn't see very much in bright sunlight. 

Simon grabbed his arm. "This way." 

Jim and Simon had only walked a few feet when a body fell down from above, passing in front of Jim, Blair, and Simon as it fell. The three men left to go downstairs. Jim put an arm around Blair. He should have run upstairs when he heard the struggle. A man was dead because he didn't act. How could someone be killed around over a hundred cops? It reminded him of Kitty Genovese who died as 38 people watched. 

A blanket was being pulled up over the body's face by forensics workers. Jim sat down near Blair and put his hands over his face. He was no longer a cop, but that didn't excuse the others. He should have yelled about the noises. However, no one could have gotten there in time. 

Steve walked over to the body. "It's Ben Prince." 

"Oh my God," said the jockey on growth hormone. 

"I'll deal with the media. Thank you." Simon closed his cell phone. 

Jim took Blair's hand and walked up to Simon. "I think he was pushed," Jim said in a soft voice. 

"Do you have any evidence to back that up?" asked Simon. 

Jim tilted his head up. "They were right above my head, Simon. I heard what sounded like a struggle -- some muffled sounds, maybe somebody trying to yell." 

"Take a look around up there," Simon said to Brown. Rafe and Brown went back inside. Simon used his cell phone. "You find anything." 

"Nothing conclusive," said Brown's voice. "Just some possible scuff marks." 

Simon closed his phone. "This is just great. Can you imagine the field day the tabloids are gonna have with this? Track owner murdered at a party hosted by some of the highest-ranking members of Cascade P.D." 

Jim's cane was still upstairs on a barstool. "Blair, I need my cane and to get out of these clothes." 

"I hear you," said Blair. 

"Not to mention the mayor, city council," ranted Simon. "Look. Do me a favor. Keep a lid on this until you can bring me something concrete." 

"Steve," said Jim. "Were you at the party?' 

"I work here. Our company has a long-term lease on the property," said Steve. 

"We take care of all the maintenance and track operations in exchange for exclusive rights to the races here. Ben got a percentage of the gate and concessions." The former jockey gave her hand to Jim to shake. "Pat Reynolds." 

"Jim Ellison. I'm Steve's blind brother who has to work for a stranger because his brother can't offer him a job. I'll be in touch." Jim walked away from Steve and Pat, back to where Blair was talking with Brown and Rafe. 

Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder. "Chief." 

Blair handed Jim his cane. "Here." 

Jim unfolded his cane. "See you guys later." He wished he could see Rafe and Brown squirm. He did not like tuxedos. He'd be happier once he was home and wearing his boxer's shorts or less. 

* * *

After Jim took off the monkey suit, he got into bed near Blair. Jim took a deep breath, using his diaphragm like Blair had shown him. At his job, Jim showed several people how to breathe. He even touched Patti under her ribs and explained aerobic exercise meant with air. No knowledge was ever wasted. 

He knew it was all psychological but he feel didn't as closed-in at home as he felt in the racetrack. What must have been a hundred cops, the mayor and the city council and a man fell to his death; it didn't make sense. He took another breath then he asked Blair, who was shifting in the blankets, "Do you want some tea?" 

"You have tea now; you'll never sleep," said Blair, sitting up in the bed. 

"I'll make herbal." Wearing only his boxers, Jim went to the kitchen and opened the cabinet where Blair kept the tea. He sniffed the different small boxes of tea. The small ones were herbal. The large box was Darjeeling. The first of the small boxes was apple-spice, the next one he sniffed was peppermint, then he breathed in the dry flower smell of Chamomile. Jim recalled that the box had said Sleepytime Tea and had a teddy bear on it. Now the box was a blur of color, mostly orange and red. 

Jim took the teapot off the counter and refilled it with tap water before placed it on the stove. A few weeks ago, he would have had to feel for the teapot. Now he could see it and reach for it. He wondered if one day he would see well enough to read or drive. He sat down to read Jack Kelso's book while waiting for the pot to whistle. 

The book was really interesting. He was glad that Kelso's book made it to Braille. He drank his tea and read more about the terrible things the government was up to, at least, while Kelso was in the CIA. He was certain things were worse now. This was a real spy verses spy, not some Mad Magazine silliness. The Russians would outdo the Americans and the Americans would outdo the Russians with whole buildings being designed to be listening devices. The sun was coming up when his mind could no longer make sense of the words his fingers were reading. 

He went upstairs and went to back beside Blair. He read more books with his hands in the past few months then he read with his eyes in several years. He just had to call the library and the librarian ordered them from the National Library for the Blind. Then he went to the library to get the new ones and return the ones he had read. 

He had read all the Isaac Asimov robot books. He was waiting for Anne Rice's Interview with a Vampire. Blair recommended it. He said it was more fantasy than horror. After Jim finished reading Jack Kelso's book, he would get some books on audio until his selection of Braille books arrived. 

Jim looked at sleeping Blair with the brown hair shining in the morning light. After sitting down on the bed, Jim touched his long curly hair. The texture of hair said so much more than his eyes could tell him. Soft bouncing hair that sprung back from his touch, Jim kissed Blair's head and sniffed in the herbal shampoo. 

Blair yawned and stretched. "You have work." 

"No, today's my day off. I'm going to the library to get another audio book." 

"Or four," said Blair. 

"I also want to order more Braille books. I was thinking of getting Niven's Ringworld series." Jim continued to touch Blair's hair then his face. 

"Ringworld is OK," said Blair. "I couldn't read the others. Interview and The Vampire Lestat should be in by now." 

* * *

Blair, shifted a paper in his hands, walked up to join Simon. Jim can smell Herman with his mothball and old spice somewhere just beyond them. The opening day crowd in Lastings Park was fairly good. Blair had never showed much interest in gambling. He had spent a couple rolls of quarters when they went to Las Vegas, but he never said anything about betting on horses. 

"Hey, glad you could make it," said Simon. "You know, it looks like Prince might have been a suicide after all. Medical examiner found out he was dying of pancreatic cancer." 

Blair let out a slow breath. "Man, that's almost understandable, huh?" 

"They found a medical report in his pocket dated yesterday morning," Simon explained. "Maybe he just couldn't take it." 

"Hey. That's like saying 'The triple crown winner is afraid to run,' Ben was a fighter," said Herman, the older man. "He wouldn't ever just give up." 

Simon said, "I'm sorry, Herman. I really didn't know him that well." 

"He and I went back 50 years together," Herman explained. "We met in a foxhole in France. When we came home, he bought this track. It didn't look like much in those days, but he loved racing and he wanted to be a part of it." 

"You have any idea why someone might want him dead?" Jim asked. 

Simon raised his voice. "Jim!" 

Herman whispered, "Why would anybody want him dead?" 

Simon said to Herman, "Excuse us." Simon pulled Jim away from Herman by a few steps. The whole grandstand had that crackling sound. "Hey, I thought I told you to keep a lid on this." 

"With all due respect, Simon, that autopsy report is just a prelim." Jim whispered. "Also you are no longer my boss." 

Simon's voice shook. "Look, even with your heightened senses, you're not infallible." 

"Neither is the medical examiner." Jim had to make Simon listen. 

"You're not going to let go of this, are you?" said Simon. "Just remember you aren't a cop." 

The announcer on the loud speaker said, "Riders up." 

"That's us," said Herman, getting back to his seat. "I want a winner this time." 

"Go for it," said Rafe. 

"I got to get a bet down," said Blair. 

Simon said, "Blair, look you don't have to make a bet just 'cause." 

"What, are you kidding? I've been doing some handicapping. Flashbang's a sure thing at seven-to-one. Look, your horse looks good, but I got a sure thing." Blair left to go to the betting window. 

Jim was alone with the smell of the horses and crackling popping noises. Was he supposed to listen to people cheer their horse while he heard racing hoofs in the dirt? Smelling paint dry would be more interesting. He turned on his portable radio and remembered all the things Blair had said about filtering out background noises. He sat back and listened to the Mariners lose, again. 

Blair grabbed Jim. "You're listening to baseball." 

"I didn't enjoy horse racing when I could see the horses," said Jim, taking Blair's arm. "The whole place smells like a barn." 

Blair dragged Jim, causing his earphone to fall out, down the steps into the stadium seating to get into the Cigar Club box. Jim sat on the aisle beside Blair. 

Blair whispered to Jim, "Simon, Rafe, Brown and Joel all have matching red jackets." 

Jim could see they were all wearing red. His eyesight was tested at 20/250. He no longer needed a play by play, but smiled at the picture in his head formed by Blair's words. "This is one time I'm glad I'm blind." 

Blair said, "Hello, boys," as he took Jim's hand. 

Joel, Brown and Rafe said in unison. "Hey." The matching jackets must be syncing their minds. Not that Jim looked at their jackets; some things were better ignored. 

"Get your bets down all right?" asked Simon. 

Joel asked, "What's this nag he's betting on called again?" 

Brown answered, "Flash in the pan?" 

The three cops laughed. 

"Come on, guys, let's not be bitter, let's not be bitter," said Blair. "I put some money down on Little Stogie, too." 

Simon's voice perked, "Really?" 

Blair said, "To show." 

Jim put his earphone back in. The Mariners were at bat. The bases were loaded. This was a sport he could get into. Jim remembered once when the betting clerks were on strike, the races ran, there was no gambling, and no one came to the track. If this were a real sport, people would go without needing to gamble. 

* * *

Simon and the rest of Cigar Club gathered around Blair then back at the betting window. Blair wandered over to join Jim. Jim, walking around the grandstand building, listened to the crackling. He kept his cane folded, so he could hear the crackles and not the bangs and echoes from his cane. 

Blair chuckled. "I can't believe those guys, man. What's up? You hearing that noise again?" 

"Yeah. I've been hearing it the whole time," Jim explained. "Sometimes it's more intense, other times it's quiet, but this is different. It's coming from this direction down here somewhere." 

Jim heard cracks forming in a pillar, a beam that went from floor to ceiling. He started running that direction. "Hey! Move away! Hey!" 

Blair, Simon, and the others run after him. 

Simon pulled out his badge. "Cascade P.D.!" 

Jim yelled, "Get away from that pillar!" It was cracking real bad now. Jim grabbed a woman and her child who were in front of the pillar and hauled them aside as the outside of the pillar cracked open. 

"Thank you, sir," said the woman. "How did you know?" 

"A few days after I lost my sight, I started hearing dog whistles," explained Jim. "It doesn't make up for the lost." 

Blair said, "A lot of blind people have enhanced senses. It's been well documented. I met Jim while doing a paper on enhanced senses and people using them to help others." 

"Jim certainly helped us," said the woman. "Do you want some coffee?" 

"Yes, please." Jim backed away from the pillar, "Blair, please, tell me I'm not smelling what I think I am." 

Blair put a hand on Jim's arm. "It's a dead body." Blair took Jim's hand and led him to the coffee shop by the stadium main gate. 

* * *

Police crews arrived after the woman paid for Jim's coffee. Jim took in the smell of the coffee and felt the warm cup as the young mother talked to Blair about enhanced senses and Blair recounted that he had hundreds of documented cases of people with one or two hyperactive senses like coffee tasters or perfume sniffers. Blair had to flirt with everyone. Jim listened to the police while he drank his coffee and tried to sound interested in Blair's lifework. His lifework was police work and that was taken from him. Finally, he walked back over to the pillar, giving the police a respectful distance. Body had been taken out of pillar and was being taken away in a body bag. 

Simon said to the officer, "Make sure you get some good pictures of this." Then he walked over to Steve and Pat. "So, do you have any idea who he was?" 

"Pete Winslow," said Steve. 

Pat explained, "We had the grandstand renovated a couple of months ago. He was the construction foreman." 

"Anything else you can tell me?" asked Simon. 

Steve said, "I'll dig up everything we've got." 

"Thanks. We'll be looking into this." Simon walked over to Jim and Blair. "Hell of a place to end up, isn't it?" 

"Probably never knew what hit him," said Jim. "Two shots in the back and then they dumped him in." Yes, he overheard the forensics people talking. 

"So, Jim, that's your brother, huh?" Simon said. 

"Yeah," Jim said. 

Simon paused a second. "I sort of see the family resemblance." 

"I never could." Jim walked off. 

* * *

"Come on, buddy. People change, man. I mean, look at you," said Blair. "Your experience in Peru -- it changed you, right? So maybe your brother changed, too." 

Jim didn't say anything, just got a beer from the fridge and went into the living room. He took one slug from the beer before putting it on the coffee table crowded by Blair's books. He had told Blair over and over about keeping his books in his room or nearly on shelves. 

"Oh, man." Blair sat down. "Whatever he did, it must have been pretty good, huh? All right, look, if you don't want to tell me, I'll understand but let me just say one more thing. When you get something out into the open, sometimes it's not as bad as you originally thought it was." 

Jim put a CD in the sound system and sat on the sofa "My dad raised us 'cause my mom was gone. He was always pitting us against one another, you know. He was really into the competition thing. One year he bought season tickets to the Jags. I mean, he only bought two. So whoever was in favor that week would get to go. I know it's a little thing." 

"That doesn't sound little to me." Blair sat beside him and cuddled into Jim's lap. "That sounds pretty harsh, man." 

"I guess he figured the competition would toughen us up for the real world but in reality, it just drove us further apart. My dad had this car. A '65 Cobra." 

Blair leaned against Jim's chest. "Oh, yeah, yeah." 

Jim put his arms around Blair. "If my dad was in a good mood, he'd let me drive it every now and again, but only when he was with me. Once I backed it out of the garage myself. Out of nowhere pops up my old man. I thought he would split a gasket. He wanted to rip my head open, man. It was so crazy. He forbid me to even go near the car again. He was going to go on this business trip. Japan, Australia -- I don't know where it was, but he had promised Steven that he was going to take him on this trip if he kept his grades up. One day Steven comes home with a 'B.' A 'B.' The old man says 'Steve, sorry, the deal's off. Jimmy, pack your bags.'" 

"So he punishes him by rewarding you." 

"Yeah, Steven was pretty pissed off. He was jealous. He was really hurt. I guess he wanted to get the old man back or maybe he was trying to get me back, but he took a crowbar to the Cobra. The old man must have figured I'd taken it out for a joyride and dinged it up. I said, 'I had nothing to do with this, Pops.' He just wouldn't believe me. I wasn't going to rat Steven out. He never came forward and told the truth." 

"So, he got to go on the trip?" 

"Yeah, and I got to go on one of my own." Jim kissed Blair's hair. 

"Right. Join the army, see the world." 

"Something like that. The bottom line was that I realized that I couldn't change the relationship I had with my old man. It was what it was. I couldn't make him trust me. We just couldn't communicate." 

"What about Steven?" 

"What about Steven?" Jim didn't want to talk about Steve; he was getting horny. Jim took another drink of his beer. He wanted to take Blair upstairs, have his way with him and never talk about his jealous bigoted brother, again. 

"I mean, Jim, we all make mistakes, you know. Kids do stupid things when they're scared." Blair placed an arm around Jim's shoulders. "Once when I was 14, I went to this store and I stole this microscope, right? Yes, a microscope. Jim, I was a science nerd." Blair laughed. "Anyway, the cops caught me and I swore up and down that I'd paid for the thing and I kept lying and getting in deeper and deeper and finally I just couldn't take it anymore and I had to come out and tell the truth. But by that time, nobody was listening." 

"What's your point here?" Jim said. 

"My point is, I saw the look on Steven's face the other night when you two ran into each other and he was really glad to see you. You ever think that maybe you're the one that stopped listening?" 

"I'm going to go out and take a walk, all right?" Jim stood up. As he started to walk to the door, the phone rang. _Ring, ring._ Jim answered it. "Yeah? Ellison." 

"Jim, it's Steven. We have to talk. It's important." 

"Steve, it's been a long day." 

"I'm sitting here with a stack of documents that proves everything you think about me is true." 

"That you're a bigot and an asshole." 

"I'm in Pat's office. She has documents." 

Jim didn't think his brother killed Ben Prince or Pete Winslow. He would need more than circumstantial evidence to think that of the boy that idolized him as a child. However, Steve wasn't that child anymore. "Oh, then why aren't you calling your lawyer?" Jim asked. "Or a police officer." 

"Come on, man. It's all a lie. Look, I'm at the track." 

Jim could hear someone walking in the background. "Steve?" 

"Hold on a second." Steven paused a few seconds. Jim could hear movement a few feet from Steven, footsteps that paused and moved on. Steve then said, "Jim, you still there?" 

"Yeah. What's going on?" 

"Have you and your cop friends meet me here. You don't believe my story, you'll have more than enough evidence to arrest me." 

"Steve, call the police when you get off the phone with me. My ears picked up something at your end." 

"I'll be waiting in the executive parking area under the grandstand." 

"Steve, call the police. I'll be there in 20 minutes." Jim hung and dialed Simon. "I need you to take me to the track. Steve is in trouble. Call for back up. I think someone wants him poured into the next pillar." 

"Aren't you being a bit overdramatic?" 

"Simon, am I? My brother's life is at stake." Jim hung up. 

* * *

When Simon and Jim arrived at the executive parking lot, three police cars were blasting their sirens. Simon got out of his car and walked over to one of the squad cars. "I'm Captain Banks from Major Crimes. What's the situation?" 

"We're taking him to booking. He'll be arraigned in the morning," said the officer. 

Simon said, "Steven Ellison, right?" 

"In custody, sir," said the officer. 

"Very good," said Simon. 

Jim was still holding his ears when Simon got back in the car. Steve had finally listened to his big brother and called the police. Steve was alive and he would be safe until morning. 

"You heard all that," Simon said as he fastened his seatbelt. 

"Steve is in police custody where he can't be shot in the back and put into the next pillar," said Jim. "We need to keep my brother safe. I heard something when he was in Pat's office. I can't base a case on suspicions." 

"Especially since you aren't a cop." Simon turned on the ignition. 

"I'm not going to the Cop of the Year banquet." Jim said. 'I hope that doesn't put you in a bad spot." 

"Let's get you home." 

* * *

After the arraignment, Blair and Jim took Steve home to the loft. After Blair kissed Jim good-bye and went off to Rainier, it was only Steve and Jim in the loft. Now they could talk brother to brother. Jim asked, "Who was that guy I heard in the hallway?" 

Steve sighed. "I forget about your hearing." 

"It kicked in full force after I lost my sight," said Jim. "Well, the man in the hallway still wants you dead." 

"Pat must have hired him," explained Steve. "She's the one behind all of this. I figured it out about an hour before I called you. Now, listen to this. Winslow quits on the 24th. I know that because I saw him leave. But in his personnel file, there's a typed resignation signed and dated on the 25th." 

"The next day." 

"Right. Now, if you check the construction records you'll see that that pillar was also poured on the 25th." 

"But he's already dead." 

"The police have a record of all the funds spent on the grandstand renovations. Pat was using my computer access number to change the purchase orders after I had entered them. Substituting cheaper materials for what is in the architect's specs. But the full amount of money authorized by the company was actually spent." 

"So what you're saying is that she was skimming money off the top." 

"Right. Now, our company is about to merge with a big European conglomerate. Pat's stock options would be worth millions. Now, if she's caught stealing and fired, she could lose it all." 

"How does Ben Prince factor into all this?" 

"His legal action against the company could hold up the merger indefinitely. Now, if you're right about him being pushed off that balcony, Pat is probably behind that, too." 

"Let's say this is all true. This does not look good for you, either. They implicate you in an embezzlement scheme. And since you have stock options in the company, when this merger goes down, you'll make a pretty penny. You follow that logic? You were on the balcony minutes after Ben Prince falls to his death. You just admitted that he was in the way of the merger. I've got opportunity and I've got motive." 

"And I've got trouble." 

"Yeah. Big time." 

"I don't care about me. Call your friend Simon. Have him shut the racetrack. If the building collapses, hundreds of people could die." 

Jim dialed Simon and explained the situation. "The Rice Krispies sound I heard is the grandstand cracking. The structure is falling apart. Get the building evacuated." 

"I'm sorry your brother was arrested last night. We have an eyewitness confirming Steven was stalked. The would-be hitman stole Herman Franklin's car." 

"Steve claims Pat Reynolds killed Prince and Winslow." 

"I'll talk to Pat," said Simon. 

"Thanks." Jim hung up the phone. He hated being outside the loop. While making Steven two ham and cheese sandwiches, Jim said, "Steve, I have to go to work. You stay here and keep the door locked and bolted." Jim remembered mayonnaise, not mustard. 

"What if you or Blair need to come in?" Steve asked. 

"You want a password. I'm Jim Ellison and I live here. Does that work for you?" Jim gave Steve his plate and laughed. "You do know my voice?" 

"Of course." 

"Then we won't have a problem. Beer and juice are in the fridge." Jim got his jacket, wallet and cane. "One more thing. Does Pat know where you are?" 

"How could she?" 

"I'm serious here. I don't want her killing you seconds after I leave. Did you write the address anywhere she could see or left it in your office for a second?" 

"No, we haven't been on best terms." 

"Don't open the door for anyone other than me or Blair. Good-bye, little brother." He was going to be late, again. Harv wouldn't understand about his brother needing protection from murderous embezzlers. 

* * *

Jim called Simon during his five o'clock coffee break. "Has Pat been bought in?" 

"She fired a gun at one of the officers while we were arresting the hitman," said Simon. "I can't tell you more. I'm only telling you that much because it will be on the 6 o'clock news. It looks like your brother might be cleared of all charges." 

"That's good news," Jim said. 

"Go to the banquet. You were selected for Officer of the Year before your accident." 

"I don't need pity. I don't want a room full of my former associates holding their breaths waiting for me to trip or bump into something. Knocking Blair on the head with your office door is embarrassment enough," explained Jim. "Besides we both know Joel is more deserving of the reward than I am." 

"Tell the mayor that in your acceptance speech." 

"I already told the mayor I wouldn't be there. Get the award for me. You're better at speeches. I have a client I'm meeting to go over abs the night of the award." 

"Abs." Simon hung up or got disconnected. 

Jim finished his coffee then cleaned the coffee maker. He had an appointment to teach a new member the equipment and discuss exercise goals. Jim put the free weights back on the rack and helped a couple customers while waiting for his client. Hopefully, his brother didn't run off. On top of everything else, Jim didn't need his brother jumping bail because he didn't know Reynolds was in police custody. 

Jim called the loft. Blair picked up the phone. "How's work?" asked Blair. 

"Good, but my mind's on Steve," Jim explained. "Is he there?" 

"We're watching TV," said Blair. 

"Hon, Pat fired at a police officer. It should be on the news. Tell Steve all charges should be dropped." 

"Will do," said Blair. 

"I love you. See you in a few hours." Jim hung up his cell phone, hearing someone enter the gym. That could be his five-thirty. 

* * *

That Sunday, Steve invited Blair and Jim over his house. Jennifer showed Blair her room. While Jen and Blair were playing several games of Nintendo, Steve said, "I've been cleared of all charges. The grandstand is being repaired and will be open before the racing season ends. I appreciate all you've done for me." 

"You're my brother," Jim said. 

"Still I haven't been treating you as well as I could." 

"I've noticed that. If I had a twenty-eight year old woman in my bed, you would be telling me right on and commenting about the Ellison charm." 

"I didn't have the Ellison charm when it came to Pat. She was sweet-talking me while she was setting my doom. Cop of the Year." 

"Pity and politics," said Jim. "Either Joel Taggert or Earl Gaines should have received it. Earl stopped a gang war. Taggert stopped the church bombings. I had few high profile cases and the mayor throws an award at me." 

"You protest too much." 

"Now that I'm out of it, I don't miss it all that much." Only when listening to the radio, reading a book, cooking dinner or riding the bus; only all the time. 

Steve commented, "Blair is good with kids." 

"He's not so far removed." Jim helped his brother set the table. 

* * *

End Rice Krispies by Athena: athena@fateordestiny.com

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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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